C'est la Vie (Raja Williams Series) Page 9

  Chapter Sixteen: Out of the Frying Pan

  Once Raja had gotten the address for Corinne Reneau, the dead shopkeeper’s sister, it was only a matter of time before he found himself standing at her door. Like the proverbial moth to the flame, Raja had an unreasoned desire to help damsels in distress, and the more beautiful they were, the less reason he displayed.

  So it was that Raja found himself in the hall outside Corinne’s flat, telling himself that she might be the key to solving their case, and several other justifications for being there. When his conscience had been sufficiently massaged into submission he knocked at her door. There was no answer. He knocked again, this time louder. When no one came he tried the door out of habit and found it unlocked. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to look around. He let himself in quietly, turning to close the door. When he turned back around, a large round object was rapidly approaching his head. Only Raja’s lightning-fast reflexes enabled him to deflect the blow. He sidestepped and grabbed the object, which turned out to be a solid iron skillet, as it went by, and pulled hard, bringing his assailant toward him. Without ever letting go of the pan, he wrapped his other arm around the assailant’s throat. After a moment’s orientation, he realized it was Corinne and loosened his grip on her neck.

  She coughed once, and said, “I thought you were—someone else.”

  Raja hefted the heavy iron pan. “From the size of this, I’d guess it is someone you are none too fond of.”

  “I’m frightened,” she said. “Please hold me.”

  Raja put the pan down and wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her trembling and looked into her green eyes. “Who are you afraid of?”

  “A bad man.”

  “Who?”

  “Bruno. Bruno Laurent.”

  “I keep hearing that he is not a very nice man. Why not keep your door locked?”

  “I’m afraid it would do no good. Bruno has a key.”

  When Raja looked at her quizzically, Corinne broke down and told him how she had come to start a relationship with Bruno.

  “When I began to waitress at the club, he was kind and generous. Before long he offered me a spot as a dancer. The girls tried to warn me, but I had my own dreams. I thought he—” Her voice trailed off, and she looked at the floor.

  “You could change the locks,” said Raja.

  “That would never stop a man like Bruno.” Corinne shivered at the thought of him.

  Raja could not stand to see a woman abused by anyone, especially a beast like Bruno Laurent. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” He held her tightly in his arms and she seemed to melt right into him. As Raja engulfed her universe, he felt the heavy burden of dread and despair that weighed her down. Corinne deserved a better life than one filled with terror, pain and loss. His work on this case might change that for her. Then again, it might not.

  However, right now he had priorities. He was smack in the middle of an investigation and he had yet to find Margaret Browning. He had to keep himself on task. Raja remembered a line from a movie spoken by a beat cop at a crime scene to the gathering curious onlookers. “Move along, there is nothing for you to see here.” Hoping to follow that advice himself, he made one fatal mistake. When Corinne turned her face up toward his, he took one last look at her perfect French mouth. A mouth he wanted to taste. Anyone would. One kiss couldn’t hurt anything.

  Raja awoke the next morning alone in Corinne’s bed. The delicious combination of chocolate and coffee drifted in from the kitchen. Corinne was humming a light melody. He breathed deeply and savored the scent as he recalled the passion that had erupted between them the night before.

  A phone ringing interrupted the dream. He realized it was his phone and looked at the caller ID. It was Vinny.

  “Vinny, I found the girl,” said Raja, sheepishly.

  “No kidding, MaGoo, you’ve done it again. I suppose I should say well done, on that count. Would I be correct to assume you are still at Corinne’s place?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Of course. Have you discovered anything beyond the location of her birthmarks?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have. She knows who—let me call you back.” He ended the call and got dressed.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” said Corinne. She was standing by the stove in an oversized T-shirt and nothing else. “I had quite a surprise planned for you this morning.” She glanced at the chocolate melting in a pot on the stove and smiled.

  She was a beautiful girl. Raja walked over to her. “I will be back,” he promised, kissing her gently on the lips.

  Corinne held him tightly, and he waited until she let go.

  “I have to work,” he said.

  “Yes, your case, I know.”

  “Can I see you later?”

  “I will be here,” said Corinne. “I’m not ready to go back to work.”

  Raja didn’t know exactly how Corinne fit into his case, or even if she did, but he was convinced that, rather than a player, she was more a victim of circumstance. Around Bruno there were far too many of those.

  On the way back to his flat, Raja began to get some perspective on his new situation with Corinne. He was reminded of one of his rules of investigation: Don’t sleep with the client, and its corollary, don’t sleep with the suspect. Those two simple ideas alone could prevent most of the worst entanglements a private investigator could get himself into on a case. So much for closing the barn door now. Vinny was going to read him the riot act when he got home.

  When Raja walked into the flat, he was prepared for the verbal assault he knew was coming. Vinny was busy at her computer and did not even look up. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He preferred the frontal assault. Much like quickly tearing off a band aid, it hurt for a moment but then was over. Now he was stuck with the whole thing just hanging there over him. She was good.

  “Hey Vinny,” he said.

  “Hey Raj,” said Vinny. As far as Vinny was concerned, Raja Williams was the kindest, most ethical, and most caring person she had ever known. He was not without his flaws, and Vinny made certain to tease him about those as often as possible. However, she also knew he had a blind spot with the ladies that he wasn’t ready to deal with. Not yet, at least. So she decided to say nothing. It was better that way. For now. For him.

  “So, any luck on the research?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I am rockin’ the Buddha. I found out that the club is listed under a corporate ownership that runs through several jurisdictions around the globe. I don’t know where it ends yet. However, I did find out that the antique shop that appeared to be owned by Corinne Reneau is only on paper. I found a separate legal filing in another jurisdiction that signed over a controlling interest to the same corporation that owns the club.”

  “So we have our nexus. Who ultimately owns the corporation and what does it mean?”

  “I-D-K. But I am working on it.”

  The possibility that Corinne might not be involved in any of the criminal activities they had uncovered brought much needed relief to Raja. Otherwise, he was heading for trouble.

  Chapter Seventeen: Streetwalker

  After spending hours trying to get more files on the policemen under investigation by computer, Vinny gave up. She went to the club to rent one of the rooms. The bartender told her that Marcelo handled the rooms.

  “You want a room upstairs?” asked Marcelo.

  “A little one. Just for sleeping.” Vinny wanted to cut off any opportunity for Marcelo to make his usual lewd comments. It didn’t work.

  When they got to the third floor, he made his pitch. “Chérie, you have all the right equipment to make good use of a courtesan’s room.” He stopped in from of the door marked with a brass five. “Why don’t you let me show you how easy it can be?”

  “In your dreams,” said Vinny.

  “You are already there,” he said, smiling.

  “Eeww, gross. Just show me the room I asked for.”

&nbs
p; “C’est la vie,” said Marcelo. He walked to the end of the hall and around the corner with Vinny following. Using one of a pair of keys he opened a door. It was one of the tiny closet-rooms Vinny had seen before.

  “This will do,” she said.

  “Your choice,” said Marcelo, shrugging. He took one key off the ring and was going to keep the other.

  “I want the other one, too,” said Vinny, taking the second key from his hand. “And if there is another key, I suggest you don’t try using it. It would be a grave mistake.”

  Marcelo smiled. “You share the bathroom at the end of the hall.” He pointed to his right. “Towels and sheets are in the bathroom closet.”

  Vinny went inside her room and closed the door. She had nothing against aggressive men, in fact sometimes they could be a lot of fun. But, she could smell a male chauvinist a mile away. And to Vinny, that was a very bad stink.

  Vinny had to get into the police files, and she wasn’t going to do it over the internet. Their system was too archaic. Most of it wasn’t even hooked up to the internet. She would have to get inside the police station to access their system. She smiled. There was one surefire way for her to get inside the station. She would have to get herself arrested.

  While the private practice of prostitution was legal, solicitation on the street was not. The recent crackdown in Paris should make getting arrested a piece of cake. The question was what to wear. The clothes make the hooker. The French maid outfit she wore to waitress was too outrageous. Her street clothes were too Vinny. She needed to go shopping. Yvette would know where to go.

  Vinny walked down the third floor hall to Yvette’s room. She was about to knock, when she heard voices inside. One of them was a man. It was too early for a client from the club. Vinny pressed her ear to the door. She couldn’t make out the words but it sounded like an argument. If Bruno hurt Yvette again, Vinny was not going to let it go. The voices calmed. The argument was over. Vinny tiptoed back down the hallway and took up a position where she could peek around the corner and watch. A few minutes later the door opened and the voices got loud enough for her to hear.

  “I’m sorry, Yvette. You know how I feel about you being here.”

  “Yes, but it is better if we wait until we are ready to go.”

  “It won’t be long, I promise,” said the man. “Then we will be set for good.” He embraced Yvette, kissed her and then brushed back her hair while he looked at her with admiration.

  That’s when Vinny recognized who the man was. It was Inspector Gilliard from the Paris police. Vinny turned away slowly behind the wall, mouthing the letters O-M-G. She peeked again and saw the inspector walking to the rear stairwell that led out the back of the cabaret. Vinny hurried back to her room. This was big. Huge. Ginormous. She had to tell Raja now.

  “Yeah, Vinny. What’s up?”

  “You’ll never guess who just left the cabaret after visiting one of the girls.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Come on, try.”

  “Inspector Gilliard.”

  “Bam shizzaam. How do you do that?”

  “No way. That was right? I WAS just guessing.”

  “Right on the money. That’s not all. He is the mysterious boyfriend Yvette has been talking about. The one she is planning a trip with. I heard him say they would be all set soon.”

  “The inspector must be expecting a windfall. Do you think he’s working with Bruno?”

  “I-D-K.”

  “We had better find out.”

  “Okay, boss. Right now I’m going to go clothes shopping with Yvette. I’ll see what I can learn from her.”

  “Shopping? That sounds like your kind of assignment. And I’m out here slaving away.”

  “I’m only going to find an outfit to get arrested in.”

  “That I’d pay to see.”

  “You don’t have enough money. I’d better go.”

  “Keep me in the loop.”

  “Always.” This time Vinny knocked on Yvette’s door and asked her where to go shopping for clothes.

  “I haven’t been shopping for weeks. I’ll take you myself,” said Yvette, excited to go on an outing.

  They drove to the shopping district and got out of the car. “So what exactly are you looking for?” asked Yvette.

  “Wild, hip, young, hot,” said Vinny. “Take your pick.”

  “No formal gowns then?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, follow me.” Yvette led them down a small street with boutiques on both sides and stopped in front of one with the sign that read Chat Qui Rit. It meant the laughing cat.

  “You want young and hot, then this is the place,” said Yvette.

  After looking around inside, Vinny began trying on tops and skirts. When she found a combo she liked, she modeled the outfit for Yvette.

  “I hate to say this, considering my profession, but you look like a streetwalker.”

  “Great. That’s exactly the look I was going for.” Both Vinny and Yvette laughed out loud. “Come on, what else will I need to complete the look?” asked Vinny. She tried on a scarf.

  “Way too conservative. You need flashy. Maybe something with feathers or sparkles.” Yvette held up a red boa. “And we need makeup if you want to get this right.”

  Although they were becoming fast friends, Vinny had no luck getting any more out of Yvette about Inspector Gilliard besides the fact the two had been dating for six months and were planning to leave Paris in the not-too-distant future. Yvette was obviously trying to keep the relationship quiet. However, the two girls did have fun getting Vinny’s look just right for a Parisian streetwalker. By the time they were done Vinny had nailed the part. Yvette had no idea what she was up to. Vinny asked the clerk to wrap up the clothes she had worn into the store so she could wear her new outfit. As soon as she got outside, she was turning heads. The girls laughed at the rubbernecking men.

  “You are not going to have any trouble attracting attention, if that’s what you want to do,” said Yvette. She drove them back toward the club. “You know, Vinny, I’ve had more fun today than I have in a long time. Why don’t we go up to my room? I’ve got a bottle of Beaujolais I’ve been saving. We can drink some wine and I’ll tell you stories from my adventures at the club that will make you laugh so hard you will pee yourself.”

  “Love to, Yvette, but I can’t tonight. I have a date with destiny. Drop me off at the Hotel du Mont Blanc, will ya?”

  Although Yvette was confused, she knew every girl had her secrets, and did as Vinny requested.

  Vinny waited until Yvette drove off and was out of sight. Instead of going into the hotel, she walked up to Boulevard Saint-Michel, a main artery where she would more likely be seen. Recalling an old film noir movie she had seen, Vinny spotted a conspicuous street lamp and struck a provocative pose underneath. It didn’t take long for the first car to pull over.

  “Chérie, come with me,” said a smiling young man in a black Citroen.

  Vinny told him to get lost, and he shrugged and drove away.

  An older man pulled over and said only, “Bonsoir,” and began licking his lips compulsively while ogling Vinny.

  Vinny shook her head and waved him off, feeling disgusted. Where were the police when you needed them?

  She got her wish a few minutes later when a small police van pulled over twenty yards up from her spot. Another car had stopped for Vinny, and she made a show of walking over to talk to the driver. The man leered at her half-exposed breasts.

  Before he could say anything, Vinny said, “Dude, if you can break away for a second, you might want to look up the street.”

  The man did, and when he saw a policeman getting out of the police van, he sped away nearly running over Vinny’s foot in the process. She shouted and shook her hand angrily, until she saw she had the attention of the policeman, and then she stepped back onto the sidewalk and waited.

  The policeman strolled up to her in no apparent hurry. “You know we are cracking d
own on the girls out here. Even the pretty ones.” He smiled.

  Vinny realized he was simply flirting and might not even arrest her. She had to do something. She waited until the policeman got close enough and then kicked him hard in the leg and turned and removed her shoes as if preparing to run.

  It gave the policeman plenty of time to recover and grab her arm. “Hold it right there,” he said, no longer smiling or flirting. “You are going to come with me. I’m placing you under arrest.”

  It was the first time Vinny was happy to hear those words. She smiled to herself briefly, but made a tough face when she turned to face the policeman. “Come on, a girl has to make a living, doesn’t she?” she said, pretending to struggle.

  “I will handcuff you if you insist on giving me trouble.”

  “I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?” said Vinny.

  “Come along.” He dragged her toward the police van where a second policeman was waiting. He was older and appeared to be the senior of the pair.

  “What have we got here, Ben?” He looked Vinny up and down. “You sure you want to take her in?”

  “Yes. She assaulted me. I think I’m bleeding.”

  The older policeman laughed. “She doesn’t look too dangerous to me. Seems like a shame to arrest such a pretty girl.”

  “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you, sir,” said Ben.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me would you, ma chère?”

  “Nope,” said Vinny, smiling pleasantly.

  “See?” said the senior officer.

  That only made Ben more determined to arrest her, just as Vinny hoped it would. He opened the back of the van and pointed for her to get in.